DOGS IN THE MANGER.
David would not have been as happy as he was if he had known all that
was going on in the settlement. As it happened, his father and
brother were not the only ones he had to fear. These two had an eye
on the money he expected to earn by trapping the quails, and for
that reason they were not disposed to interfere with him until his
work was all done and he had reaped the reward of it; but there
were two others who had suddenly made up their minds that it was
unsportsmanlike to trap birds and that it should not be done if they
could prevent it. They were Lester Brigham and his particular friend
and crony--almost the only one he had in the settlement, in fact--Bob
Owens.
Bob lived about two miles from General Gordon's, and might have made
one of the select little company of fellows with whom Don and Bert
delighted to associate, if he had been so inclined. But he was much
like Dan Evans in a good many respects, and had been guilty of so
many mean actions that he had driven almost all his friends away from
him. He rode over to the General's about twice each week, and while
he was there he was treated as civilly and kindly as every other
visitor was: but the brothers never returned his visits, and would
have been much better satisfied if Bob had stayed at home.
These two boys, Lester and Bob, were determined that David should not
earn the hundred and fifty dollars if they could help it, and they
knew that by annoying him in every possible way, they would annoy
Don and Bert, too: and that was really what they wanted to do. What
reason had they for wishing to annoy Don and Bert? No good reason.
Did you ever see a youth who was popular among his fellows, and who
was liked by almost everybody, both old and young, who did not have
at least one enemy in some sneaking boy, who would gladly injure him
by every means in his power? Lester and Bob were jealous of Don and
Bert, that was the secret of the matter; and more than that, they
were disappointed applicants for the very contract which Don had
secured for David.
Bob regularly borrowed and read the "_Rod and Gun_," and when his eye
fell upon the advertisement calling for fifty dozen live quails, he
thought he saw a chance to make a goodly sum of pocket money, and
hurried off to lay the matter before his friend Lester, proposing
that they should go into partnership and divide the profits. Of
course Lester entered heartily into the scheme. He knew nothing about
building and setting traps, but Bob did, and when they had discussed
the matter and calculated their chances for success, they told each
other that in two weeks' time the required number of birds would be
on their way up the river. That very day Bob addressed a letter to
the advertiser, and as soon as it was sent off he and Lester went to
work on the traps.
It is hardly necessary to say that they lived in a fever of
excitement and suspense after that, and anxiously awaited an answer
from the gentleman who wanted the quails. The mail was brought in by
the carrier from the county seat, on Wednesday and Friday afternoons,
and Bob and Lester made it a point to be on hand when the letters
were distributed. One Wednesday, about two weeks after the letter
applying for the order was mailed, Bob went down to the post-office
alone, and the first person he met there was Bert Gordon. They leaned
against the counter and talked while the mail was being put into the
boxes, and when the pigeon-hole was opened, the postmaster handed
each of them a good-sized bundle of letters and papers, which
they began to stow away in their pockets, glancing hastily at the
addresses as they did so. It happened that each of them found a
letter in his bundle, which attracted his attention, and, as if moved
by a common impulse, they walked toward opposite ends of the counter
to read them.
The letter Bert found was addressed to Don; but he was pretty certain
he could tell where it came from, and knowing that his brother
wouldn't care--there were no secrets between them, now--he opened and
read it. He was entirely satisfied with its contents, but the other
boy was not so well satisfied with the contents of his. When Bert
picked up his riding-whip and turned to leave the store, he saw Bob
leaning against the counter, mechanically folding his letter, while
his eyes were fastened upon the floor, at which he was scowling
savagely.
"What's the matter?" asked Bert. "No bad news, I hope."
"Well, it is bad news," replied Bob, so snappishly, that Bert was
sorry that he had spoken to him at all. "You see, I found an
advertisement in one of your father's papers, asking for live quails.
I wrote to the man that I could furnish them, and I have just
received an answer from him, stating that he has already sent
the order to another party, and one who lives in my immediate
neighborhood. What's the matter with you?" exclaimed Bob, as Bert
broke out into a cheery laugh.
"When did you write to him?" asked Bert.
"On the very day I borrowed the paper."
"Well, Don was just three days ahead of you. I've got the order in my
pocket."
"What do you and Don want to go into the trapping business for?"
asked Bob, with ill-concealed disgust. "You don't need the money."
"Neither do you," replied Bert.
"Yes, I do. I intended to buy a new shot-gun with it. I am almost the
only decent fellow in the settlement who doesn't own a breech-loader.
I have racked my brain for months, to think up some way to earn money
enough to get one, and when I am just about to accomplish my object,
you and Don have to jump up and rob me of the chance. The man tells
me that he would be glad to give me the contract, if he hadn't given
it to you. I've a good notion to slap you over."
"It isn't for us," replied Bert. "It is for Dave Evans; and I think
you will acknowledge that he needs the money if anybody does."
"Dave Evans!" sneered Bob.
"Yes; and he needs clothes and food more than you need a new
shot-gun."
"I guess I know what I want and how much I want it," retorted Bob.
"I'm to be shoved aside to give place to that lazy ragamuffin, am I?
If I don't make you wish that you had kept your nose out of my
business, I'm a Dutchman."
Bert did not wait to hear all of this speech. Seeing that Bob was
getting angrier every minute, and that his rage was likely to get the
better of him, he drew on his gloves, mounted his pony and set out
for home. Bob followed a quarter of a mile or so in his rear, and
once or twice he whipped up his horse and closed in on Bert as if he
had made up his mind to carry out his threat of slapping him over.
But every time he did so a sturdy, broad-shouldered figure, with a
face that looked wonderfully like Don Gordon's, seemed to come
between him and the unconscious object of his pursuit, and then
Bob would rein in his horse and let Bert get farther ahead of him.
Presently Bob came to a road running at right angles with the one
he was following, and there he stopped, for he saw Lester Brigham
approaching at a full gallop. The latter was by his side in a few
seconds, and his first question was:--
"Been to the post-office?"
"I have, and there's the letter on which I built so many hopes,"
replied Bob, handing out the document which he had crumpled into a
little round ball. "We were too late. The order has been given to
that meddlesome fellow, Don."
Lester looked first at his companion, then at Bert, who was now
almost out of sight, and began to gather up his reins.
"You'd better not do it, unless you want to feel the weight of his
brother's arm," said Bob, who seemed to read the thoughts that were
passing through Lester's mind. "I gave him a good going-over, and
told him I had a notion to knock him down."
"Why didn't you do it?" exclaimed Lester. "I'd have backed you
against Don or anybody else."
"Haw! haw!" laughed Bob. "I shall want _good_ backing before I
willingly raise a row in that quarter, I tell you."
"What do you mean by that?" demanded Lester.
"O, I was just joking, of course. But what's to be done about this
business? Don got the contract for Dave Evans, and I want to know if
we are to be kicked out of the way to make room for him."
Lester did not reply at once. He did not feel very highly flattered
by the low estimate Bob seemed to put upon him as a "backer" in case
of trouble with Don Gordon, and while he was trying to make up his
mind whether he ought to let it pass or get sulky over it, he was
unfolding and smoothing out the letter he held in his hand. When he
had made himself master of its contents, he said:--
"You come over and stay with me to-night, and we'll put our heads
together and see what we can make of this. I must go down to the
store now, and I'll meet you here in half an hour. That will give
you time enough to go home and speak to your folks."
Bob spent the night at Lester's house, and it was during the long
conversation they had before they went to sleep, that they made up
their minds that it was a mean piece of business to trap quails, and
that nobody but a miserable pot-hunter would do it. They adopted the
dog-in-the-manger policy at once. If they could not trap the birds,
nobody should; and that was about all they could decide on just then.
The next morning after breakfast they mounted their horses and rode
in company, until they came to the lane that led to Bob's home and
there they parted, Lester directing his course down the main road
toward the cabin in which David Evans lived. He met David in the
road, as we know, and laid down the law to him in pretty strong
language; but strange enough the latter could not be coaxed or
frightened into promising that he would give up his chance of
earning a hundred and fifty dollars.
Lester was in a towering passion when he rode away after his
conversation with David. Lashing his horse into a run, he turned into
the first road he came to, and after a two-mile gallop, drew rein in
front of the double log-house in which Bob Owens lived. There was an
empty wagon-shed on the opposite side of the road, and there he found
Bob, standing with his hands in his pockets, and gazing ruefully
at the pile of traps upon which he and Lester had worked so
industriously, and which he had hoped would bring them in a nice
little sum of spending money.
"Well, did you see him?" asked Bob, as his friend rode up to the shed
and swung himself out of the saddle.
"I did," was the reply, "and he was as defiant as you please. He was
downright insolent."
"These white trash are as impudent as the niggers," said Bob, "and no
one who has the least respect for himself will have anything to do
with them. I used to think that Don Gordon was something of an
aristocrat, but now I know better."
"I wish I had given him a good cowhiding," continued Lester, who did
not think it worth while to state that he had been on the point of
attempting that very thing, but had thought better of it when he saw
how resolutely David stood his ground. "But never mind. We'll get
even with him. We'll touch his pocket, and that will hurt him worse
than a whipping. It will hurt the Gordons, too."
"Then he wouldn't promise to give up the idea of catching them
quails? I am sorry, for if we could only frighten him off the track,
we would write to that man up North telling him that the party with
whom he made his contract wasn't able to fill it, but we could catch
all the birds he wants in two weeks."
"That's a good idea--a splendid idea!" exclaimed Lester; "and perhaps
we'll do it any how, if the plan I have thought of doesn't prove
successful."
Lester then went on to repeat the conversation he had had with David,
as nearly as he could recall it, and wound up by saying:--
"I told him that we were going to start a Sportsman's Club among the
fellows, and that after we got fairly going, our first hard work
should be to break up this practice of trapping birds. Of course that
wasn't true--I just happened to think of it while I was talking to
him--but why can't we make it true? If all the boys will join in with
us, I'd like to see him do any trapping this winter."
"But who can we get to go in with us?"
"We'll ask Don and Bert the first thing."
"Nary time," exclaimed Bob, quickly. "If they are the sort you're
going to get to join your club, you may just count me out. I don't
like them."
"You like them just as well as I do; but we have an object to gain,
and we mustn't allow our personal feelings to stand in our way."
"Do you suppose Don would join such a club after getting Dave the
job?"
"Perhaps he would. He likes to be first in everything, doesn't he?"
"I should say so," replied Bob, in great disgust. "I never saw a
fellow try to shove himself ahead as that Don Gordon does."
"Well, we'll flatter him by offering to make him President of the
club; and we'll promise to make Bert Vice or Secretary."
"I'll not vote for either of them."
"Yes, you will. We want to get them on our side; for if they promise
to go in with us every boy in the settlement will do the same."
"That's what makes me so mad every time I think of those Gordons,"
exclaimed Bob, spitefully throwing down a stick which he had been
cutting with his knife. "Every fellow about here, except you and me,
is ready to hang on to their coat tails and do just what they do. One
would think by the way they act that they belonged to some royal
family. They don't notice me at all. They've had a crowd of boys
in that shooting-box of theirs every spring and fall since I can
remember, and I have never had an invitation to go there yet. They
take along a nigger to cook for them, and have a high old time
shooting over their decoys; but the first thing they know they'll
find that shanty missing some fine morning. I'll set fire to it."
"Don't say that out loud," said Lester, quickly, at the same time
extending his hand to his companion, as if to show that what he had
said met his own views exactly. "Don't so much as hint it to a living
person. We'll give them a chance to make friends with us if they want
to, and if they don't, let them take the consequences. But we can
talk about that some other time. What do you say to getting up a
Sportsman's Club?"
Bob did not know what to say, for he had never heard of such a thing
until he became acquainted with Lester. The latter explained the
objects of such organizations as well as he could, and after some
debate they crossed over to the house, intending to go into Bob's
room and draw up a constitution for the government of the proposed
society. On the way Bob suddenly thought of something.
"You and I want to earn this money, don't we?" said he. "That's what
we're working for, isn't it? Well, now, if we put a stop to trapping,
how are we going to do it?"
"This is the way we're going to do it: we'll drive Dave Evans off the
track first. When that is done, we'll tell that man up North that we
are the only one's here who can fill his order. Then we'll go quietly
to work and catch our birds, saying nothing to nobody about it, and
when we have trapped all we want, we'll ship them off."
"But somebody will see us when we are putting them on the boat."
"No matter for that. The mischief will be done, and we'll see how Don
and Dave will help themselves. We can afford to be indifferent to
them when we have seventy-five dollars apiece in our pockets, can't
we?"
"Lester, you're a brick!" exclaimed Bob. "I never could have thought
up such a plot. I'll have my gun after all."
"Of course you will."
"And what will become of the club?"
"We don't care what becomes of it. Having served our purpose, it can
go to smash and welcome. Now will you vote for Don and Bert?"
"I'll be only too glad to get the chance. But you'll have to manage
the thing, Lester."
"I'll do that. All I ask of you is to talk the matter up among the
boys, that is, if Don and Bert agree to join us, and put in your vote
when the time comes."
The two friends spent the best part of the day in Bob's room, drawing
up the constitution that was to govern their society. Lester, who did
all the writing, had never seen a document of the kind, and having
nothing to guide him he made rather poor work of it. He had read a
few extracts from game laws, and remembered that Greek and Latin
names were used therein. He could recall some of these names, and he
put them in as they occurred to him, and talked about them so glibly,
and appeared to be so thoroughly posted in natural history that
Bob was greatly astonished. Of course there was a clause in the
instrument prohibiting pot-hunting and the snaring of birds, and that
was as strong as language could make it. The work being done at last
to the satisfaction of both the boys, Lester mounted his horse and
galloped away in the direction of Don Gordon's home.